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vannahfanfics · 11 months

Text

Covenant

Word Count: 5250

Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Canon

Summary: As time marches ever onward, Seras considers more and more that her service under Integra will someday come to an end. And where will that leave her?

Bzzzt! Bzzt-bzzt-bzzt! Bzzzzzzzt!

Seras quirked a brow at the lightbulb flickering wildly above her head, her hand still wrapped around the cord which she’d pulled to flip it on. The electricity sparked within the glass bulb but seemed to be having difficulty catching; just as she began to wonder if the thing would sputter and die, it blazed to life with one final and insistent bzzt!

“My, what a dramatic little lightbulb,” she chortled to herself. Of course, a vampire like Seras didn’t need to turn on the lightbulb; darkness may as well not exist to her piercing eyes. Be that as it may, Seras still found herself doing little things like that, even fifty years after evolving into a full-fledged vampire—little human things that kept her from falling over the edge to complete monstrousness. Maybe she was just being silly in thinking things like this made a difference.

Regardless, it was on now, so Seras might as well leave it on since it was trying oh-so-hard to illuminate this small storage room with its dim luminosity. Its light just barely refracted on the sliver of a window in the back wall, which was frosted over with ice crystals.

Winter had set in, and they were currently in the deep of December. It was only Integra, Alucard, Seras, and a handful of staff in the manor, so they left a majority of it unheated during the winter months. This led to it getting a bit drafty in some places, including Integra’s office, and tonight was particularly cold; a fire had been blazing in the hearth since before sunset, and it was beginning to dwindle to embers. Rather than bother any of the staff to go fetch wood, Seras had offered to do so, since she’d been idling around Integra’s office anyway. Alucard had been sent off alone to handle their latest assignment from the British government, leaving Seras to mind the manor and their master. Not that Integra needed much minding; she was as spry as a spring chicken.

It’s hard to believe that Sir Integra is in her seventies now, Seras mused absentmindedly as she watched the lightbulb sputter and struggle to remain alight. Yet Master and I haven’t aged a day. I wonder what is to become of us when Sir Integra…

Seras shook her head firmly to banish the thought. She wasn’t naïve, of course; Integra was mortal and therefore had to die someday. Seras wasn’t deluding herself into thinking that her master would live forever. But that didn’t mean that she wasn’t sad about it, either. They’d been together for so long, after all. It was something that Seras had come to ponder more and more over the recent years—her own unchangingness.

“What is to become of us, eh? That’s the million-dollar question, ma cher.”

Seras wrinkled her nose in displeasure when Pip lit up a cigarette within her inner void, making the acrid scent of burning tobacco waft up her nose despite there being no smoke in the room.

“How many times have I asked you not to do that?” Seras sighed.

“Sorry, ma cher, ” Pip chuckled; as always, he wasn’t the least bit sorry at all, evidenced by the fact that he took a long drag of his cigarette rather than putting it out. After exhaling deeply, sending smoke billowing inside of her dark miasma, Pip hummed thoughtfully. “Really, though, I wonder what Alucard intends to do? The Hellsing Organization will undoubtedly be absorbed by the British government’s defensive ministries… I can’t imagine him becoming their dog. The only one he’ll kneel for is Sir Integra.”

“Do you think he’ll leave?” Seras asked quietly.

“Who can say?” Pip shrugged. “The man is an enigma, especially after fusing with that kitty-cat brat. Who knows what he’s thinking…”

“Who knows…” Seras echoed hollowly.

“What about you, ma cher?” Pip posed suddenly, making Seras blink in confusion. “What will you do? I’m sure you don’t care who you serve as long as you feel you’re doing the right thing… but if Alucard leaves, will you follow him?”

Seras didn’t answer. Even though she’d been contemplating this more and more as of late, not once had the notion of Alucard leaving crossed her mind. Seras was loyal to Integra, and if Integra’s wishes were for Seras to serve her homeland, then Seras would happily comply. But… Alucard was her sire, and more than that, someone dear to her. The idea of facing eternity without him… It frightened her.

“Hey,” Pip pouted. “It’s not like you’ll be alone. I feel like chopped liver over here.”

“Mr. Bernadotte, you know that’s not what I meant by thinking that,” Seras frowned back.

“Fifty years, and you still call me ‘Mr. Bernadotte,’” Pip crooned mournfully. “You wound me with your aloofness, you really do.”

“You still call me ‘ma cher.’”

“It’s not the same thing, and you know it,” Pip retorted sullenly. Despite Seras’ melancholy, his sharp tongue elicited a giggle from her. In turn, Pip smiled and took another drag of his cigarette.

“Come now, ma cher. Now isn’t the time to brood,” Pip reminded her gently, the burning stick bouncing in his teeth. “The chill in the manor is growing deeper by the minute, and you wouldn’t want Sir Integra to grow uncomfortable because you’re off in your own head.”

“Right, I really must stop daydreaming!” Seras whined and slapped her hands to her face. The stinging sensation would bring her wandering mind back to reality—at least long enough to complete her task, she hoped.

“Now, let’s see,” Seras hummed to herself and trotted over to the wall, where rows upon rows of keys hung on hooks. They were of all shapes and sizes, and each one had a keychain label identifying the door which it belonged to. Seras read off the labels as she scanned them: “Kitchen pantry, laundry room, conference room, basement, security HQ, armory, underground bunker…” The wall vibrated as Pip zapped his energy through it, and a small black spark of lightning-shaped darkness flicked at a key near the bottom. “A-ha! The key to the woodshed; there you are! Thank you, Mr. Bernadotte.”

“Anything for you, ma cher.”

Seras snatched the key from the wall with a triumphant grin, and in the next second, the lightbulb above her head started to rapidly dim. It zapped with electricity one more time, then blew out, casting the small room in darkness. Seras grabbed the cord and tugged to flip the switch, made a mental note to ask one of the manor’s maintenance men attend to it, and then strode purposefully out of the storage closet while trying her best not to think about gloomy metaphors.

“There you are,” Seras chirped. She used the fire poker to nudge the top log a little closer to the middle of the hearth, and once she was satisfied with the golden-hot fire blazing in its core, she rose. Heat rolled off of the fireplace, filling the previously chilly office with cozy warmth. “That should do for the rest of the night, I think,” Seras said, then moved the grate cover back in front of the brickwork hearth. She propped the iron fire poker on her shoulder as she whirled on her heel to face Integra. “Need anything else?”

“No, Seras, you’ve done plenty enough already,” Integra quipped from where she sat at her desk, still scribbling away at various documents. Seras expected her to continue without looking up, but to her surprise, Integra lowered her pen to give her a soft smile. “I know you’re antsy, not being at Alucard’s side, but do remember that this is your master we’re talking about.”

“Is it that obvious?” Seras chuckled wryly and scratched at the side of her face. Yes, Seras was admittedly a little miffed at being left behind—she always was. Of course, that was how things went these days; the two vampires took turns on the few missions given to them so that one of them could stay behind and guard Integra. Millennium may be no more, but the Hellsing matriarch was not lacking in enemies. Still, each time she saw Alucard leave, Seras found herself reminded of that cold night on the windy moors.

She’d sworn an oath to always find him, no matter how far away he went. She’d sworn to save him whenever he needed saving. She’d lived up to that once, when Alexander Anderson had him on the cusp of death; but this was a promise of eternity. There was no fulfilling it.

But if he leaves of his own accord… and does not want me to follow… What will I do then?

“Seras?” Integra prompted, snapping the vampiress out of her thoughts.

“O-oh! Y-yes, Sir Integra, I know that Master can handle himself,” she laughed nervously and rubbed at the back of her head. “I think I’m just a little stir-crazy, having spent all day with you in the office. I think I’ll patrol the manor, if that’s all right with you.”

“Sir Integra! Play me in chess!” Pip squealed from within Seras, then phased himself through her shadowy arm to drop down into a squat on the floor. Though they remained linked in mind and spirit, Seras had learned how to let Pip roam freely about, similar to how Alucard could summon those he consumed. Perhaps due to Seras’ lax limitations of him, the former Wild Geese commander could materialize himself if he so chose. He still stuck with Seras most of the time, but every so often, he too would get stir-crazy and would hop out to get up to no good.

Seras’ heart squeezed with gratitude. Pip had sensed that she wanted time to herself, and so he’d separated himself from her without asking. It was easier for him to consciously ignore her thoughts when he was busy.

“Mr. Bernadotte, as you can see, I am quite occupied,” Integra huffed with a roll of her eyes. “And you have never once beaten me in chess, in the fifty years that you’ve been here. What makes you think you’ll start now?”

“Call it a lucky feeling,” Pip chortled, lighting a cigarette as he stood. “ Ma cher was just thinking you work too hard. Ease the burden off her mind and take a break, hmm?”

“Oh, so you can rile up my blood pressure with your antics and risk giving me a heart attack?” Integra teased. Her eyes flicked to Seras—who tried her very best to pretend like she had no stake in this conversation at all—then back to Pip. Then, she sighed and pushed her documents to the side of her desk. “Oh, all right, then. But don’t go crying to your mistress when you’re crushed like the buzzing gnat you are.”

“Yahoo! Let’s get it!” Pip howled with glee and snatched up the nearby chessboard. While he was dragging an armchair to the other side of Integra’s desk, Seras took her leave.

It was less a patrol and more a mindless wander through the dark, chilly halls of the empty manor. Seras didn’t know quite what she was looking for, really, but her feet seemed to know where to go; they carried her down many corridors and around countless corners until she found herself finally stopping at a large, wood-carved double door on the first floor. She wasn’t sure why it called her so, but she felt compelled to twist the ornate doorknob, push it open, and peer inside.

As the moonlight spilled into the room, it illuminated sheet-covered furniture, boxes stacked to the ceiling, and various other odds and ends that had accumulated over the many years. Seras pushed both doors open all the way and propped them to maximize the natural light entering the space, for the room was so crammed with things that she couldn’t even begin to hope to locate the light switch. She then meandered through the small passage forming a maze within the stacks, stopping to ponder the various items and their stories. She spun the intricate marble globe sitting within its mahogany mount; she inspected a painstakingly rendered replica of a ship in a gallon-jug bottle; she tried on each of the funny-looking feathered hats stacked atop a chest full of play costumes. Eventually, she found herself before a wardrobe.

The sheet had slipped off partially, revealing half of its intricately-carved wooden surface. Seras tugged on it, and the sheet fell away with a soft swishing sound. As she did so, the other door revealed itself to be partially ajar, and it slowly creaked open with the loss of resistance from the sheet. Seras gasped when she spied a familiar coat hanging within.

“Is this… Master Alucard’s?” she wondered aloud as she pulled out the jacket to inspect it. It certainly looked exactly like it, down to the stitching on the flared collar. Of course, Seras realized that it couldn’t be Alucard’s coat, given that he’d walked out of the manor wearing it—but it was an impressive replica. She held it to her chest as she flipped through the various articles of clothing in the wardrobe, finding them all to be historical reproductions of some kind.

“I wonder who made them,” she murmured, looking down at the burgundy coat in her hands. She surmised that it must have been a member of the Hellsing family, given their apparent familiarity with Alucard. As she gazed down at it, her eyes gradually grew hooded. She supposed it didn’t much matter. Whoever it was, they were long gone.

Long gone… Everyone is long gone, she thought morosely. The fabric of the coat rustled as Seras hugged it closer to herself. Such short days they had been, fraught with danger and violence—but there had been those bright little moments, too, that Seras treasured to this day. Just like their mission in the moorlands, where they’d watched Pip drink himself silly, and where Alucard had shown his first bit of softness to her by giving her his coat. Thinking back on it made Seras chuckle, only for a fresh wave of melancholy to wash over her in the next second.

The Wild Geese… Walter… Mr. Bernadotte, technically… And soon, Sir Integra will be, too. Gone. Only Master and I will be left behind…

Or… Will it only be me?

With a pitiful sniffle, Seras sunk down into a crouch. As she pressed her face into the coat, she smeared tears across its surface. Impressive though it was, an imitation was still an imitation; as its scent of dust and mothballs wafted up her nose, all Seras could think about was the fact that this was not her master’s coat, and so she could glean little of the comfort she sought from it. But it was better than nothing at all, which may be what she would be left with soon.

Time passes so quickly. It won’t be long at all before I have to say goodbye to Sir Integra, she thought miserably. And Master Alucard—time works altogether different for him since he absorbed Schrӧdinger. It’s nothing for him to vanish for days or weeks on a mission that should take half that time, just because of his state of in-betweenness. What if he’s not there when Sir Integra passes? I won’t know what to do, whether to stay or to go…

But where would I go? It was that thought that sent her over the threshold, and she began to softly weep into the rumpled-up coat squished between her face and knees. I have nowhere to go. This place is my home… but it’s only my home because he brought me into it. Without him, there’s a void that I just can’t ignore, no matter how many people surround me.

It had been the same back then, when Alucard had been overcome by Schrӧdinger and trapped within himself for thirty years. No matter how much Seras tried to count her blessings, no matter how much she reminded herself that not all was lost, no matter how much she told herself that such was life—no amount of encouraging words could fill the yawning void that was Alucard’s absence. Back then, a thousand people could have surrounded Seras, and yet all she would have felt was the cold, empty space at her side where Alucard should have been.

And that’s how it would be, again, if Alucard chose to leave. And it would be worse because, this time, he would have chosen to leave Seras behind.

Seras wept long enough that her legs began to cramp from being forced into a crouch for so long. She realized that she would not be going anywhere anytime soon, and so she clumsily flopped back on her rump and drew her knees up to her chest while she squeezed the coat tightly. She was running out of tears to shed, though; her bitter sobs had dwindled into pathetic little sniffles, and the tears and snot had ceased streaming down her ruddy face some time ago. Yes, she was done crying—but she was certainly not done grieving for that which may come to pass, and there was no way that she could show her face to Sir Integra and Pip looking like this. She didn’t want to concern either of them.

As Seras rubbed at her eyes with the heel of her palm, she suddenly became aware of how frigid the storage room was. With a shrill whistle, a draft blew through the cracks in the walls and surrounded Seras with its icy fervor. She shuddered, and once again, she was reminded of that cold, windy night on the moors; forlornly, she looked down at the tear-stained replica of Alucard’s coat in her hands. It wasn’t Alucard’s, but… He wasn’t here to drape her in the real thing, like he had done all those decades ago, so it would have to suffice.

Seras unfolded the coat and threw it around her shoulders with a small sigh. Once it settled, she held it to herself while she wiggled one arm and then the other through the sleeves. It really was uncanny, how close this reproduction was to the real thing; it dwarfed her in the same exact ways, sleeves dangling past her hands and the main body of the coat swallowing her up into its cozy warmth. Seras hugged her knees to her chest and propped her chin on them, and then just stared morosely into the dark of the wardrobe.

“Please don’t go where I can’t follow, Master…” she whispered, eyes fluttering shut as she pressed her face into her arm.

“Seeing as you’ve already followed me into Hell, is there truly any place that I can go where you can’t follow me?”

Seras whipped her head up with her gasp just in time to see Alucard phasing through the wardrobe. Once fully solid, he pushed the clothing aside and stepped up to the edge of the wardrobe to deadpan, “I’m home.” Without waiting for Seras to answer, he stepped down from the cabinet, released a languid sigh, and stretched his arms above his head.

“It really has been one thing after another,” he whined while rolling his head on his neck, stretching it until the vertebrae decompressed with a sharp crack. “First, I’m sent on what amounts to be the most dreadfully boring assassination of perhaps my entire existence.” He heaved another sigh, lolled his head to the other side, and cracked his neck again. “Then, instead of coming home and being able to retire to my lovely dungeon, I’m instead sent to find a little police girl who lost herself in the manor.” With a final languorous exhale, he straightened up, let his arms drop down to his sides, and dropped his shining red gaze down to Seras. “And now, where do I find her? In a freezing storeroom amongst dust and relics, brooding on things she ought not to be.”

She just gaped owlishly at him as he stood over her, hands in his coat pockets and red eyes gleaming as he regarded her with what most would think was an expression of boredom at best and disdain at worst. But Seras knew Alucard; she could see the little things that betrayed his true emotions—the tenseness in his posture, the terseness in his jaw, the unease in his blood-red irises. Yes, little things that most others would not see, but they were the things that told Seras that Alucard was worried—worried about her.

Seras just dropped her gaze to the dust-coated floor and tugged the coat tighter around herself.

“You’re home,” was all she said, her voice hollow. She couldn’t even fake her normal cheer, not when the melancholy still clung to her like a heavy shroud. “Welcome back, Master.”

The only response that Alucard gave was a click of his tongue. The thud of his boots against the wooden floor were heavy as he circled around behind Seras; she didn’t look at him, just traced the swirling patterns of the dust clouds that rose with each strike of his boots’ thick soles against the floor. She expected him to busy himself with one of the many items around while he danced around the conversation; instead, he snatched up the collar of the copycat coat and tugged—hard.

“Uwah?! Wh-what are you doing?” Seras exclaimed, yet snaked her arms out of the sleeves so that Alucard could yank the coat away from her anyway.

“Tch,” Alucard sniffed as he held up the coat and squinted at it. “You really do like this coat of mine, don’t you?” He then tossed it over his shoulder, letting it land in a crumpled heap among the other relics of days gone by. “Why would you settle for that cheap knock-off when you can have the real thing?”

Seras’ heart warmed immediately at his kind gesture. However, the flutter of the coat over her shoulders did not bring comfort, but panic—for Alucard didn’t simply drape it over her as he had done all those years ago on the windy moors. No, this time, he saw fit to plop down on the ground behind her, wrap his arms around her middle, and tug her backward until she was nestled against his chest and the folds of his cloak cocooned them both. With a throaty chuckle, he propped his chin on her shoulder, and his breath tickled her cheek as he murmured, “Warm?”

Seras was warm, but it had less to do with the coat and more to do with the fact that Alucard was embracing her so unexpectedly, so freely, so… intimately.

“Master—” Seras started, her voice sounding strained after being forced around the lump in her throat. She cut off just as soon as she began, words failing her as Alucard reached up to swipe a thumb across her tear-stained cheek.

“Seras.” The seriousness in his tone left no option but to answer his impending question. “Why were you in here, crying all by yourself?”

Yes, Seras knew she had no choice but to answer. That didn’t make it any easier to do.

“I…” Her voice was so frail, so weak—just like her.

She may be a fearsome vampire of terrible power, the one and only fledgling of Alucard, a monstrosity of darkness and violence—but beneath all that, beneath the black iron shell borne of her vampirism and tragic experiences, she was still Seras Victoria. And Seras Victoria had always feared one thing, been weakened by one thing: being alone. In life or in death, it didn’t matter; the idea of every single person that she came to care about being inevitably snatched away from her until it was just her left, only her to survive and be forced to face the great darknesses of this world, her alone… Even now, or perhaps even more now, terrified her to her very core, and left her a frail and trembling thing.

A frail and trembling thing, yet Alucard held her all the closer for it.

“I have been thinking…” Seras forced herself to speak, though she hated the tremulous, feathery whispers those words were; she forced herself, for she knew that she would only dive further into her own despair if she didn’t. “I’ve been thinking about what will happen when… Sir Integra… when Sir Integra dies.”

Alucard said nothing, but she felt his chin shift against her shoulder as his face pulled into a slight frown.

“The British government will take over management of the Hellsing Organization; it’s already been decided. But… where does that leave us?” Seras swallowed thickly, but she couldn’t force that lump down, and so her voice broke around it as she whispered, “Where does that leave me ?”

She didn’t want to cry again, not in front of him, but the tears came anyway. She squeezed her eyes shut as they rolled hot and fast down her cheeks, then hung her head with a pathetic sniffle. Weak and pathetic, nothing at all like the proud fledgling of Alucard should be—but that was what Seras had become, wrought low by the frightening threat of being abandoned. Not just left behind this time, but abandoned—by the one person that Seras couldn’t live without.

“Master… When the time comes… Will you leave? And if you do… Will you tell me not to follow?”

The line between fidelity and love was thin, and Seras had long since crossed it. And now, the idea of walking the night alone, without Alucard at her side, was simply unfathomable… unthinkable… unbearable. She didn’t need him to love her; she only needed him to let her be by his side, to let her keep that eternal promise, to drive away that deep-seated fear that had plagued Seras since the darkest days of her childhood.

And that is what she told him, in the look of overwhelming brokenness that she gave him as she looked up into his eyes and asked:

“Will you leave me forever this time?”

The question hung heavy in the air, waiting, but Alucard gave no response. He merely stared into Seras’ eyes, searching. Searching her? Searching himself? Searching the far reaches of the darkness? She did not know, and she did not know for what, either. But he found it, whatever he was looking for, and he exhaled deeply as he let his head slump forward until his forehead knocked lightly against hers.

“Silly police girl,” he smirked, though regret laced its edges and made it droop. “You should be careful. Sir Integra would have your hide if she heard that you’re going around talking like she’s going to die any younger than a hundred… If she’ll die at all. That woman would discover the secret of immortality simply to spite me, so she could give me orders forever.”

It was true, and so Seras released a small, hiccupy laugh despite herself. Alucard’s smirk morphed into the beginnings of a smile at her little giggle, but then fell into a sad frown as a lingering tear rolled down her cheek. Tenderly—far more tender than he had ever been—he swept it away with his thumb, then cupped her cheek in his hand. It was so large, so warm—so safe. Seras hadn’t thought that she would feel safe again, after what had happened to her as a child; but she had found that security again in Alucard. She only found it in Alucard.

“Seras,” Alucard breathed, and Seras’ lashes fluttered at the feeling of his breath fanning over her skin. He was so close, forehead still against hers, tip of his nose brushing against hers, eyes boring into hers as they blazed with… so many things—guilt, regret, pride, hope, hesitation, adoration. Her name was the only word he uttered for several seconds, but Seras clung to it, clung to the possibility of solace that it offered—clung to the hope that what she feared would never come to pass.

“Seras,” he repeated, his expression and tone growing slightly stern. “Heed my next words well.”

Seras knew that it was a rhetorical demand, but she still nodded. Her forehead rubbed against his, and her golden locks threaded with his ones of midnight black. Her action—one so full of loyalty, of eagerness—made Alucard’s grim façade crack, and his mouth twitched into the faintest of smiles. He tilted his head a little, then said solemnly:

“I will never again walk the night alone, and therefore, neither will you. Whether it is our own end, or that of the world around us, I will meet it with you, Seras Victoria. There is no place that I can go where you cannot follow, for your place is at my side and nowhere else.” And, because Alucard could never resist livening up a dreadfully serious moment, he grinned and pulled away from her face so he could flick her in the forehead. “So stop your crying. It is unbecoming of a police girl, a vampire, and someone in Integra’s employ. You should know better.”

“Yes,” Seras laughed and reached up to rub at the little red mark he’d left in the middle of her brow. “I should know better,” she agreed even as the tears of relief and gratitude and joy poured thicker down her face than the ones of despair that had come before. Yes, she should know better—should have known better than to doubt the man who had given her a second chance, a second life… a second love. Her eyes full of water, her vision was a blur, but she still tried to meet Alucard’s warm gaze as she choked out around the lump that had returned to her throat, “Thank you… Alucard.”

And there it was—the softness that Alucard reserved for Seras and Seras alone. It crumbled away the centuries of blood and iron and walls born of hardships untold to reveal the passionate and righteous heart that had long been buried beneath—the heart that Seras had always known was there. As he lovingly stroked her head, whispered her name like a reverent prayer, gazed upon her like she were the divine grace that had restored his faith and piety, he offered that heart to her with a promise of fidelity. And Seras took it gladly.

But her heart? That, she did not have to offer in return. She already had; it, and that promise of fidelity, she had given him a long time ago. And within him, she had no doubt now that it was safely kept and would be, always.

“Welcome home…” Seras said again, followed by a shy addition of, “My Alucard.”

He just chortled, a rumbling sound deep in his chest—an undeniably approving sound.

Smiling at the validation, Seras reclined back against Alucard’s chest and let his warmth, his comfort, his security envelop her completely. As it washed over her, it filled her with sleepy contentment. She really ought to return to Sir Integra and check on her, but… she wanted to enjoy this a little longer. Her eyes fluttered shut, and her body went lax in his hold.

Alucard just chuckled, drew his cloak around her, and pressed his face down into the top of her head.

“Back forevermore,” he murmured into her hair as he pulled her ever closer, into his embrace where she would always belong. “My Seras Victoria.”

#aluseras #alucard x seras #seras x alucard #seras victoria #hellsing #hellsing ultimate

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